


A Trip to Heaven

by Shadow_Of_Castiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Heaven, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-14
Updated: 2010-10-14
Packaged: 2017-10-12 15:57:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Of_Castiel/pseuds/Shadow_Of_Castiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is curious about just what Castiel did in Heaven, before he pulled Dean from Hell. Castiel shows him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Trip to Heaven

"Hey, Cas, what did you do in Heaven before you met me? I mean, when you were a cherub or whatever you were?" Dean asked, as he idly cleaned one of his guns.

He was taking his time through cleaning it, yet needed the distraction to take his mind from the oft performed yet never boring job. Sometimes it helped the elder Winchester to occupy himself in other ways than just his hands, whether it be talking, pacing, singing badly or purely eating. Castiel had noticed all of these things about the hunter, yet never held any of them against him, particularly the man's obsession with pie.

"I merely interacted with other angels, and loved my Father," Castiel replied, as he carefully plucked one of Dean's t shirts crumpled on the bed beside the hunter.

He smoothed out the creases from the fabric, smiling slightly at what he knew to be one of Dean's favorite bands. He mouthed the word "Metallica" to himself and smiled slightly again. Dean watched him, with a slight smile of his own, and didn't try and stop Castiel when the angel folded his t shirt onto a neat square and placed it upon the top of his bag, just as fastidiously.

"Yeah, I realize that, but what did you do? Did you fight? Did you have singing contests, or learn to play the harp? Did you have drunken brawls with Cupid? You did, didn't you?" Dean said, with a bright eyed grin up at the angel.

"No, angels do not drink, or at least, we didn't back then," Castiel amended gently. "We didn't have anything to be overly concerned over, back then."

"You mean, the Apocalypse? Far more innocent times, back then, my friend," Dean said, with a shake of his head. "No, seriously, what did you do?"

"We didn't learn to play the harp or sing. Just because these Hallmark cards, as I believe they're called, seem fascinated by portraying us as such, does not mean to say that's true," Castiel told him, with one cocked eyebrow. "As you should know by now, we're warriors of God, or we were. Back then, we learnt how to fight with flaming swords, and learnt to fly among other things."

"Wait, what? You learnt to fly?" and Dean laughed, tilting his head back to expose the long line of his neck to the light. "Dude, you learnt to fly! Did you have to take a test or something? How to do a three point turn on the head of a pin or something?"

"No, there were no pins involved, Dean," Castiel replied, brow furrowing as he stared at the still laughing hunter. "We did, however, have to learn how to bank and wheel, how to land safely without damaging our wings and how not to crash with our brothers and sisters."

"Dude, this is so awesome," Dean said, as he grinned openly up at the still standing Castiel. "How long did it take you to learn to fly?"

"Roughly about three Earth days," Castiel replied, blankly as though it was no big deal.

"Three - three days? You are awesome," Dean repeated again, more slowly this time., "You do realize how long it takes to learn to drive here, and you learn to fly in three days?"

"Yes, Dean, I am somewhat familiar with the notion of driving. You forget though, I am an angel. My level of learning and intelligence is far beyond the stretch of a human's," Castiel replied, gently.

"Yeah, I kinda figured that," Dean said, without taking offense. "Three days. I wish I could have seen that. Did you learn to teleport as well?"

"Of course. How else would I know how to do it now?" Castiel replied, with a slight smile.

"Yeah, good one," Dean replied, with a snort. "Did you teleport into someone's bathroom?"

"No, Dean. I am over two thousand years old. Bathrooms weren't in existence then, or not in the sense you would recognise them," Castiel replied, slowly.

"But you did teleport into one?" Dean stated rather than asked.

Castiel paused, before he said - "Yes."

"Dude," Dean said, as he finally put aside his gun and cleaning rag. "Tell me it was woman. It was, wasn't it?"

"No, Dean, he was definitely male. In fact, he kind of looked like you," Castiel mused, eyes becoming misty upon recollection.

"I don't believe you," Dean said, with a chuckle. "Can't you show me?"

"How?" Castiel asked.

"I don't know. Can't you zap me back in time like you did when Anna threatened my parents? Or couldn't you do a Vulcan Mind Meld or something?" Dean asked, rubbing his hands together in sudden anticipatory glee.

"I do not know what this Vulcan Mind Meld is, Dean. I wish you wouldn't use these references you know full well I don't understand," Castiel said, reprovingly.

"No, never mind about the mind meld, Cas," Dean said hurriedly. "On second thoughts, the mind meld might turn into a mind melt. I still remember when you tried talking to me when we first met."

"Ah yes, at the gas station and in the motel room. I already apologized for that," Castiel said, with a dip of his head. "I thought you were able to withstand my true form."

"Hence why I wouldn't survive a mind meld," Dean said, with a shrug. "Seriously, though, send me back to when you were a kid. I'd love to see you."

Castiel tilted his head to stare at Dean, curiously, before he asked - "Why are you so interested?"

"Why not? You're my friend and I barely know anything about you. You've seen me at my best and my worst and I don't know jack squat about you," Dean said. "C'mon, indulge me. I'm bored, I need pie and I wanna know more about you."

Castiel's mouth lifted into a pleased smile at that, before he nodded once, slowly.

"As you wish, and thank you," he said, quietly.

"Don't thank me, I'm curious," Dean said, as he stood.

Castiel watched him with some curiosity, before he asked - "Do you wish to go now, Dean?"

"Sure, why not? Sam's off with the Campbells, doing I don't wanna know what for I don't know how long and we're both here," and Dean shrugged expansively.

"Ok\ay, Dean, as you wish," Castiel repeated his statement from previously, before he disappeared without warning.

Within seconds he was back, carrying an ornate metal bowl and some extra ingredients for his ritual spell. Dean, all too familiar with the process by now, sat back and watched as Castiel slit his own palm open, needing angelic blood to send them to Heaven, before he began his ritual. Dean listened to the strange sounds of Enochian working past Castiel's lips as the angel frowned, small furrows appearing   
between his dark brows. Finally, he finished his spell before reaching for Dean hurriedly.

Dean had barely enough time to blink or to breathe before he felt a great, gushing wind pressing against his ears and the sounds of Heavenly choirs singing. He almost asked why he could hear singing when Castiel had previously said that angels didn't sing, before he realized the sounds he was hearing were angels talking. Their voices were melodic, musical, not unlike the singing choirs that Dean had mistaken them for. He felt Castiel's strong grip upon his arm, dragging him ever onwards and Dean was glad for the safety of that vice like grip upon his arm.

He waited until finally he felt Castiel alight, wings snapping and folding behind him, yet the angel did not fold his wings completely away. Dean saw them for the first time, in shimmering golden waves cascading from his back, tipped in silver filigree. He stared openly, curiously at Castiel's wings, who dipped his head in embarrassment.

"Do not stare at my wings, Dean," he said, quietly. "They're ugly."

"Dude, you're joking, right? If you say these are ugly again, then I'll stop eating pie for a week," Dean warned. "Trust me, dude, these are really .. beautiful, actually. How comes I can see them? My eyes should be burnt right out of my skull by now, surely."

"You are in Heaven, Dean. The rules are different here. Besides which, you are in my corner of Heaven. Everything is controlled by me. As I wish it, so it will be," Castiel said, gravely.

"Kinda sounding like Spock there, Cas, but I get your meaning," Dean said, as he walked around Castiel's frame, admiring the angel's shimmering wings.

He reached out to touch one of the soft and feathered wings and stepped back when the feathered surface twitched slightly.

"They're ticklish, Dean," Castiel said, with a chuff of sudden laughter. "Try not to do that too often. It's distracting."

The angel turned away, knowing that to ask Dean Winchester to not do something was like inviting him to do it all the more. Surprisingly, the hunter refrained from tickling Castiel's wings again. He was too enthralled and distracted by the sights surrounding him, of beautiful verdant green pastures ebbing away in all directions. He recognised several varieties of roses from Earth and a few Heavenly blooms he'd never seen before.

"Dude, you like roses," he remarked, as he stopped before a rainbow patterned rose bush.

"Of course, Dean. They are the most beautiful of all of God's flowers," Castiel replied, as though that answer should have been obvious.

"I seriously feel like I'm in the Wonka Chocolate Factory here," Dean murmured as he stared down at a babbling brook that bisected the grass at his feet.

"I do not know this place, Dean," Castiel replied, a weary note in his voice over yet another reference going over his head.

"It's a place with lots of chocolate," Dean explained. "Not as good as a pie factory but close enough."

Castiel nodded, barely listening to Dean's words as he watched his younger self suddenly appearing before them. He smiled slightly in fond recollection as he witnessed his own first, stuttering flight above the ground, small shimmering wings flapping wildly to maintain equilibrium.

"Sweet. Is that you?" Dean asked, as he followed Castiel's line of sight. "Man, you look nothing like you. Not now you anyway."

Dean caught himself in time, remembering Castiel's similar words to him, when Dean had been flung five years into the future by Zachariah and had faced a wholly human Castiel. This time, the roles were reversed and he was looking at a past version of Castiel, albeit from over two thousand years in the past.

"Of course not. This is merely a borrowed vessel," Castiel said reverently. "What you're seeing there is my true form, or a dimmed down version of it. My true form would be too much for your fragile eyes to withstand, but you get the picture."

Dean was too engrossed in watching a small, lithe form, wearing a dainty loin cloth flapping and flailing above ground. The figure was indistinct, a little blurred around the edges and wholly formed of light. Bright blue eyes shone distinctly like the brightest of jewels from an indistinct face and Dean grinned.

Castiel stared at him curiously, before he asked - "What?"

"What? I like past you," Dean said, again unconsciously repeating the words of Castiel from 2014.

Castiel smiled and bowed his head to Dean.

"Thank you," he said, simply, before turning away to watch his past self.

Dean cast a glance between the Castiel that he was familiar with, wearing Jimmy's body, and back to the muted form of the angel's true form, flitting and cruising, sometimes crashing before them. The hunter had to admit that Castiel himself, was different to what he expected, yet no less impressive. He thought it wise to remember this time, because he knew he would never see Castiel again, in a controlled environment, or risk losing his eyes.

He followed the angel through several scenarios of the angel's youth, of learning to fight with flaming swords. The hunter had to admit he was impressed by the skill of the angels and the weapons that burned. He also witnessed a host of angels (Castiel among them) learning to brandish archangel's swords, silver blades that never tarnished and were fatal to an angel. He also witnessed Castiel's attempts at teleportation, although he never saw the incident that Castiel spoke of, of appearing in an ancient form of bathroom. He wondered if Castiel had been pulling pranks on him with that one.

Finally, they came to a halt, staring up at the gates of heaven arching overhead, and watching angels filing through in serried ranks, a younger Castiel smart and in place. The Castiel that Dean knew, inhabiting the body of Jimmy Novak, looked on with pride.

"What's happening?" Dean asked, casting a glance between Castiel and the host of angels filing through the gates.

"This is the first Exodus from Heaven, when we first walked among humans. This was at the birth of Christ, when Gabriel appeared to Mary," Castiel told Dean reverently.

Dean surprised a chuckle at that, before he commented - "I can't imagine Gabriel doing that now. If he wasn't dead, of course. I'm sorry about that."

"Not your fault, Dean," Castiel said, as exoneration. "Blame Lucifer for that one, even though he may balk at another layer of blame added to the weight upon his shoulders."

"I'm sorry, Cas, but your brother's a douche-bag," Dean murmured, as he nodded at an angel passing by, despite the fact said angel couldn't see them.

"I know," Castiel agreed, quietly. "A lot of my brothers are."

Dean kept silent at that, uncertain as to what to say and too engrossed and watching the angels pass by to form a coherent response. Then he began to grin, which caught the attention of Castiel.

"Now what?" Castiel asked, with a hint of amusement at the irrepressible hunter.

There were several reasons why the angel liked and respected Dean, and his inability to be bogged down by emotional issues was one of them.

"Which one's Raphael, dude?" Dean asked, as he nudged Castiel slyly. "I wanna give that douche a wedgie."

"I don't know what that means, but Raphael's over there," Castiel asked, pointing out a particularly tall and translucent being, with glaringly huge brown eyes.

"Yeah? Sweet, Watch this," Dean said, as he stole through the ranks of angels.

He felt the wash of their power bathing over him, the almost tangible buzz and tingle of humming power baking off dozens of celestial beings. He ignored every single one of them, focus solely upon Raphael. He slid in behind the fierce archangel, before reaching forward and grabbing double handfuls of the angel's robes. He yanked upwards, having no underwear to pull, lifting the material away from the angel's form. He ran, dodging through dozens of angelic forms before finally stopping at Castiel's side.

"Dean," Castiel said, in reprimand.

"What? Raphael deserved it," Dean said, with a one shouldered shrug.

Castiel only shook his head at Dean, a chuff of laughter leaking past his lips as the newly wedgied Raphael started threatening the angel behind him with his archangel's sword.

"We'd best leave, Cas," Dean warned, urgently catching sight of the first blow landing upon wavelengths of celestial being. "I don't wanna be caught up in the War of the Holy Douchebags. Present company excepted of course."

Thank you," Castiel said, before whisking Dean away from the fighting and back into the motel room again.

The room was as they had left it, empty save for themselves. Castiel was staring at him curiously and Dean gave him a lop sided grin and a wink.

"Thanks, Cas, for today," Dean said, quietly. "It was good. Now I want some pie."

The angel blinked at Dean, vaguely surprised at how quickly Dean moved on, before he reminded himself that the hunter was, essentially, a bottomless pit for all that was pie. Nothing could come between the elder Winchester, not even Heaven's heavenly delights or the sight of a much younger Castiel, or so it seemed.

"Fine. Then I'll go with you," Castiel said, dutifully.

"Yeah? You sure? Fancy a bit of humanity after going topside?" Dean asked, as he pointed up to the Heavens.

"Something like that," Castiel said, with the faintest of sighs. "Youth was such an unpleasant stage of my existence. It wasn't the easiest."

"Whoever said schooldays were the best days of your life was quite obviously wrong in the head," Dean agreed. "I hear ya. I was the same. Things are no different ... on Earth as it is in Heaven."

"Dean," Castiel said, looking uncertain as to whether to laugh or not.   
"I know, you want me to shut up. Got it. Now, let's go get that pie you promised me," Dean said, as he skilfully manoeuvred the angel from the motel room.   
The door closed solidly upon Castiel's protest that he hadn't agreed to get Dean any pie, to which Dean's response was lost in the roar of the Impala's engine.

~fini~


End file.
